All The Time You Need

by Melissa Mayhue

  Her mind struggled to comprehend how such a thing could be possible and then, without warning, her body jerked to a sudden, bone-jarring stop. Suspended in midair, surrounded by a million shards of light and cocooned in a blanket of emerald green, her mind gave up any attempt at rational thought. Her eyes fluttered shut and the bizarre world around her faded away into oblivion.

  Chapter 3

  Highlands of Scotland

  1295

  “Uh-oh. Best you look to a hasty escape, my friend.” Finn MacCormack’s elbow to Alex’s ribs accompanied his words, as did a throaty growl from the wolfhound lying at Finn’s feet. “And quickly, at that.”

  Alex turned his gaze from the trencher in front of him to the direction his friend indicated to find his sister headed toward him, her eyes fixed upon him with a determination he recognized all too well.

  “Too late,” Finn added, dipping his head to concentrate on the food in front of him as if he thought to make himself invisible.

  For one wild instant, Alex allowed himself the luxury of envisioning an escape from his sister. He wasn’t sure he could stand another bizarre round of conversation where Alissaundre MacKillican regaled him with stories of Faeries cavorting about, making mischief in their woods.

  “I need you to come with me,” she said as she approached, one hand on her hip, already signaling her defiance. “And be quick about it, brother. I fear we’ve no time to waste.”

  “Calm yerself, Lissa,” Alex began, but stopped as he really looked at his sister.

  Though they were twins, Lissa was the opposite of him in almost every way. Where he was quiet and contemplative, she was outgoing and talkative. Where he took his time and rationally thought a thing through, she jumped in with both feet, guided always by her emotions.

  But with all their differences, never had he seen her present herself in the great hall in such a disheveled state. Her copper curls escaped from her braid in every direction and mud coated the front of her gown and streaked her face.

  “What in the name of all that’s holy have you been up to?” he demanded. “Yer a sight, lass.”

  “The way I look is of no matter, Alex. You must come with me now and be quick about it,” she urged, reaching his side and fastening her fingers on his arm before pulling.

  There was no living with her when she had her mind set in this way, so he might as well do as she asked.

  With a resigned sigh, he rose from his seat. “Where do you think yer dragging me off to, Wee Lissa?”

  The glare she returned at his use of the childhood name was exactly as he expected.

  “To Grandda’s arbor,” she responded.

  “You were outside the gates?” he demanded, abruptly stopping in his tracks, jolting her to a stop as well, since she held his arm still. “Alone?”

  Hadn’t he enough to worry over, what with the half the people who came before him claiming some infraction against them or their property by marauding Gordons? Hadn’t he made himself clear enough on the matter when he’d spoken in the great hall, instructing all the inhabitants of the castle to remain inside the protection of the walls?

  “Of course I was,” she answered, without even a remote touch of guilt in her expression. “Which reminds me, we have need of the gate key before we return. Do you carry it on yer person or must we waste more time doubling back to the laird’s solar?”

  “My solar,” he growled, claiming it more to remind her of her place than out of any desire to actually be the laird. He also claimed her arm, wrapping his fingers tightly around her wrist. “I want an explanation, sister, before I take another single step. What were you doing outside the protection of the walls?”

  “She’s come,” Lissa said with a shrug. “As I told you she would. Exactly as the Fae predicted. And it’s Da’s solar, no' yers. While he draws breath, it still belongs to him. You may well be acting in his stead, but I’ll no' bend a knee to you as laird until Da either declares it so or breathes no more.”

  Alex sighed, not sure whether he should rebuke his sister for expressing the same doubt in him that he held himself or instead deal with the greater infraction, her endangering her own safety. Safest to deal with that which could not be disputed. Even now, as a woman grown, she still professed a ridiculous belief in Faeries, and because of that, she’d disobeyed the one and only thing he’d demanded of her. Lissa had spent far too much time in their grandda’s company growing up, digesting every half-wit Faerie story the old man had fed her.

  “I’ve had more than enough of yer Faerie blether,” he said, dropping his hold on her wrist and turning his back on her. That he’d left a perfectly good meal on the table to attend to her ridiculous fantasy annoyed him to no end. “And beyond enough of yer games. Yer forbidden to leave the walls again.”

  “And what business is it of yers that makes you think you can tell me what I can and canna do? I’ll take the keys and a bench to climb upon, if I must, and I’ll release her my own damn self. It’s no' as if I need you to get things done. Lord knows, if I’d waited for that, nothing would have happened here for the past year.”

  As if her defiance were the final stick upon a workman’s back, all Alex’s frustrations of the past few days gathered themselves and burst forth as he whirled around to face his sister.

  “You’ll do as I say because I tell you to do it,” he roared, fighting to calm himself and lower his voice as he strode back to tower over Lissa. “You’ll do as I say because I am Da’s heir and tannist. It falls to me to see to Dunellen’s safety and that of her people, and, whether you like it or no', little sister, that includes you. Until Da is up and on his feet again, you will do as I say.”

  “But—” Lissa began, her hands on her hips.

  “And I’ll thank you no' to challenge me in front of the whole of the clan, aye?” He held her gaze until her defiance began to melt. “I’ve no love of keeping you from what you want to do, as you should well know. I’ve always been the one to support yer eccentricities, have I no'?”

  Too often, it now appeared. Maybe if he had been on their father’s side rather than hers, he wouldn’t be faced with this challenge now.

  “You have,” she answered meekly. “And yer right, of course. My apologies, brother. I’ll no' challenge you publicly again. Our arguments are best left to be carried out in private.”

  “Good enough, then,” he muttered, turning once again to return to the meal he’d left behind.

  He sat down, took a bite that felt as wood shavings in his mouth and looked up to the spot where Lissa had stood only moments before. Something about his sister giving in so easily didn’t set right with him.

  “She’s a fiery lass, for a fact,” Finn commented, his attempt to hide his grin failing miserably. “With a temper to match her beauty.”

  “Neither my sister’s looks nor her temper is any of yer…” Alex automatically began, his words trailing off as he considered what Finn had said.

  His friend was absolutely correct. Another marked difference between Alex and his twin had always been his long-simmering, calm demeanor as opposed to her quick, fiery temper. Meek was not something she did. Ever. No wonder the exchange between them hadn’t sat right. He might have been gone for a long time, but he had little faith that Lissa would have changed so drastically. Though they were different in many ways, his twin was every bit the stubborn fighter he was. Maybe even more so.

  With a huff of frustration, Alex rose from his chair. Confronting her directly without taking the time to check would only make the situation between them worse. Especially if he were wrong about this. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew he was rarely wrong when he had one of these feelings.

  “Want company?” Finn asked, rising to his feet.

  “Yer welcome to come along if you like,” Alex answered.

  If his suspicions were correct, having a second swordsman along could well end up being a good thing.

  They strode out into the hallway and beyond, all the way
to the laird’s solar. One look inside confirmed Alex’s suspicion. The keys his sister had wanted were missing from the peg where they were kept.

  “Damn my slow wits,” he growled, grabbing his sword from the bench where it rested and hastening toward the massive wooden door at the entrance of the keep. It was the fastest route to where his sister was headed, and no doubt the way she had gone. “You’ve yer weapon on you?”

  A low snort was Finn’s first response. “Even if I didn’t, I’ve got Dog. Though think upon it, my friend. Have you ever seen me without my weapon close at hand?”

  Now that Finn pointed it out, Alex realized he hadn’t. He also had never seen his friend without his huge, scraggly dog at his side, a formidable weapon in its own right, just as he’d indicated.

  “Lissa’s gone outside the walls. We’re going to bring her back.”

  Not too much information, but enough to alert his friend to the potential for danger. Finn simply nodded, his face an expressionless mask.

  Alex picked up speed as he crossed the open ground between the keep and the wall, with Finn matching his stride, step for step. By the time they exited out through the tunnel gate, they were trotting, comfortably keeping pace with one another.

  The arbor was set a goodly distance away, well beyond the back walls. If the Gordons were roaming the area looking for a chance to strike, the laird’s only daughter would make a fine target indeed. As far away as they’d be from the keep, no one would hear her no matter how loudly she might scream. And considering it was no secret that the Gordon laird had declared that he would stop at nothing to claim a piece of the MacKillican lands for his own, Lissa would make an attractive bargaining chip.

  A noise ahead of them brought a knot to his stomach. Next to him, Finn unsheathed his sword and held it at the ready.

  The knot in Alex’s stomach continued to grow, cinching itself tighter and tighter, until at last he caught sight of Lissa through the trees. Exactly as he expected, she’d made her way back to the arbor. He’d barely had time to think the first words to a prayer of thanks before she set his heart pounding again.

  “A nimble lass, that,” Finn said, clearly seeing the same thing Alex did. “But perhaps no' quite nimble enough.”

  Ahead of them, Lissa scrambled up onto a wooden bench she’d brought with her from the keep, and grabbed on to the sharpened spikes of the iron gate that closed off the arbor. Before Alex could do more than hasten his steps, she had hoisted herself up in what appeared to be an attempt to straddle the top of the arbor wall. Though his sister was fearless, her gown was less than suitable for the task she’d set herself. It tangled around her legs, causing her to lose her hold. She slipped, and would have fallen if not for the chain around her waist, which snagged around one of the spikes, holding her captive as she dangled helplessly several feet off the ground.

  Served her right, Alex thought, and he briefly considered leaving her there long enough to allow her to think upon the error of her ways. But that wouldn’t do in this situation. Not out here, exposed and vulnerable to attack from the Gordons. Rescuing her was his only recourse, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy teasing her about this mishap for days to come.

  He started to yell her name, but stopped as he realized Lissa wasn’t alone. There, on the other side of the locked arbor gate, kneeling on the ground, her hands clasping the bars, was a woman he’d never seen before.

  “What’s this?” Finn asked, the amazement in his voice indicating he’d spotted the stranger as well. “I wasn’t aware you imprisoned women here at Dunellen.”

  Alex wasn’t aware of such a thing either. His gaze locked with the woman’s, and any words he might have formed froze in his throat at the sheer terror reflected in her eyes.

  * * *

  Annie felt as if she were swimming her way up through a million layers of gauze, struggling against an exhaustion such as she’d never felt, in order to reach the light that penetrated her eyelids. She might have given up and allowed sleep to reclaim her if not for the intense, throbbing pain in the side of her face. She managed at last to open her eyes, and found herself on the ground in a strange place, crumpled beside a stone bench.

  It took a few moments for her to put her thoughts in order to remember where she was. Scotland. She’d come to her grandmother’s cottage. Her cottage now. It all came back to her in sharp focus. She’d gone in search of the arbor where her grandmother had loved to spend her time, and she’d found it.

  And then the earth had, quite literally, begun to move beneath her feet.

  Apparently there had never been an earthquake like Annie had experienced during any of her grandmother’s visits. If there had been, Annie was sure that her Nana Ellen wouldn’t have loved it quite so much. Because as far as she was concerned right now, mysteries or no mysteries, this arbor was the last place she’d ever want to come again for a relaxing afternoon.

  She held on to the bench to pull herself up to her knees and then, finally, to her feet. A few deep breaths to ward off the waves of dizziness that rolled over her, and she managed to stand upright. But only briefly. Only until another wave of dizziness washed over her like a tsunami, buckling her legs and slamming her back to the ground.

  Now, both her face and her bottom throbbed equally.

  “I think I hate this place,” she groaned.

  Tears seemed perfectly in order, and she allowed herself that luxury before dragging herself up to stand once more. This time she held on to the tree, fastening her hand around its trunk to give herself some time to get her bearings.

  Everything seemed somehow…wrong.

  The earthquake—which was what it had to have been that she’d experienced—hadn’t done as much damage as she might expect. Though the tree, the bench, even the arbor walls still stood exactly where they had before, they weren’t at all the same as they had been. She would have sworn that the tree had been massive and old, but clearly, the trunk of this one was hardly more than a few inches in diameter. Even the gate was… Wait!

  What the hell was going on with the gate?

  Annie lurched forward, fastening her fingers around the iron bars before pushing with all her might. Granted, what she’d been through had taken its toll on her physically, but the gate that had been barely clinging to the stone walls by a single rusted hinge was now firmly in place and securely locked. She could understand if the earthquake had knocked a gate that had been in pristine shape off its hinges, but this was the exact opposite. This wasn’t just wrong, it was bizarre. Bizarre and totally impossible.

  “Hello?” she called out, her voice husky and cracking.

  It felt beyond foolish to even try to call for help, but if, for some unknown reason, workmen had come to repair the gate while she was unconscious, surely they would have attempted to give her some sort of aid. It certainly wasn’t as if she had been invisible, lying there in front of the bench, big as life. And even if they’d chosen to go for help rather than try to revive her themselves, why in heaven’s name would they have locked her in here?

  “I don’t get this,” she whispered. It was all just too weird.

  A rustling noise followed by a grunt caught her attention, and she pressed her face up against the bars in an attempt to see in the direction where she thought she’d heard the sounds. A young woman headed toward her, struggling under the burden of what appeared to be a heavy wooden bench. From her wild, copper-colored curls to her lady-in-waiting costume, she looked like someone on her way to a Halloween masquerade party.

  No matter. Annie was desperate for help from anywhere she could get it.

  “Hey,” Annie called, hoping to attract the woman’s attention. She’d barely heard that herself so she cleared her throat and tried again, a little louder. “Hey!”

  The young woman’s head snapped up and her eyes widened as she spotted Annie. She dropped the bench she’d struggled with and lifting the long skirts she wore, she ran forward to the gate to fasten her hands over Annie’s.


  “Yer unharmed, thanks be,” she said breathlessly. “Well, perhaps no' completely unharmed, but no' as badly hurt as I’d feared when I first spotted you there on the ground.”

  She brushed a finger over Annie’s cheek, and Annie flinched, a spasm of pain shooting through the spot.

  “I guess I hit it on the bench when I fell during the earthquake.” It was the only rational answer she had for the pain in her cheek. “I probably should get some ice on it.”

  As soon as she could get out of here and back to the cottage.

  “Aye, that would be a comfort, would it no'? Too bad there’s no ice to be had this time of year.”

  No ice? That made no more sense than anything else that was going on. It could be that the stranger was only referring to the fact that there was no ice nearby.

  It didn’t matter. Annie didn’t have the energy to try to piece together what the woman meant. There were more important things to worry about, and her strength seemed to be fading quickly as another wave of overwhelming exhaustion washed over her.

  “Can you please help me get out of here?”

  “That’s exactly what I intend to do.” The young woman smiled and ran back to the heavy bench she’d left behind, to drag it toward the gate. “I only need to get up to the lock and we’ll have you out in no time. I’m Alissaundre MacKillican, by the way,” she said as she lifted her skirts and scrambled up onto the bench. “Though my family calls me Lissa. By what name are you called?”

  “Annie,” she answered, sinking to her knees. Standing had simply become more effort than she could manage. And though it felt as if her mind had clouded, one thing Lissa had said stood out. “Lock?” she managed to ask, her tongue feeling much thicker than it had only moments before.